


Light by the Ocean

by One_spoon



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23278891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_spoon/pseuds/One_spoon
Summary: He just needed to get away. Officially it was a sabbatical, time scurried away over several years, dragged from his bones. But when Jongdae said goodbye to the gray concrete office he saw more than his tiny overcrowded flat in Seoul, he felt like he could finally breathe again. One year. One year of staying at his aunt’s rundown summer home on the coast, because his mother said that the seaside would be good for him. And maybe he can find more than just himself again.
Relationships: Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin
Comments: 22
Kudos: 68
Collections: SnowSpark Fest Round One





	1. Slow Walk

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #39
> 
> To the prompter:  
> Thank you for this fantastic prompt; I fell in love with it the moment I saw it! I sincerely hope this fic is to your liking and lives up to the beauty of the prompt from which it is inspired. 
> 
> A shout out to the super understanding mods for granting me an extension, and of course another shout out to my out-of-this-world beta for making this fic much much better than what it used to be :)

_I forgot how to walk slowly, I feel like I lost everything._ _  
_ _I’ve been running only forward,_ _  
_ _And my shoes have been worn out like my feelings._  
_I’m awake even when I’m sleeping;_ _  
I’m dreaming when I’m awake._

Two minutes to four.

Jongdae watched as the pointer on his dashboard slowly fell to zero, waiting for the engine’s hum to quiet down. Two days after his 28th birthday, he was starting a new life in, according to his GPS, the faded blue, one-story house sitting a few steps above the street with an overgrown front lawn. 

It seemed right according to his vague memory of the place. He and Jongin had spent a few weeks in this house with their aunt, in the hot and restless summer before he turned 12. Everything was beaming with life and beauty then, truly a carefree time spent speeding down alleys on bright blue bicycles and savoring strawberry-flavored soda while watching the sunset. But the clock had ticked on mercilessly, the hands turning and turning, until all that had happened in that summer was ceded to memory, the lost chest of all things that never will be again. 

Now 16 years later, grown and tired, looking out through his windshield, Jongdae silently commended himself for proving his point again. Everything was different now. The town seemed to lack vitality. He had always been rather fond of the rich colors of autumn: its golden leaves, clear bluer skies, and the occasional hazel-colored pumpkin spice latte. But like old photographs that had not been properly stored, autumn here was drained of color except for the grayer tones. The sky was tumultuous with clouds and the sea was a blackish gray with roaring waves. The trees that were supposed to be covered in rich, warm-colored leaves were already barren, shivering in the howling wind. 

Amidst the sound of crashing waves seeping through his opened window, he heard the tiny click, the muted chime of the clock announcing it was four in the afternoon. Grunting a bit, he slowly extended his cramped back and limbs, climbing out of the driver’s seat. Owning a larger car in crowded Seoul was not a rational choice, so he had to suffer the physical consequences of cramping into a small one in exchange for his rationality. The unfortunate fate of modern _Homo sapiens,_ as his long-limbed younger brother would describe it, who had a much harder time than Jongdae from folding his tall, elegant body to fit. 

The sound of the waves was much louder once outside. Jongdae stretched as the chilling, slightly salty sea wind chafed at his face. It was refreshing, and despite his slight disappointment at the scenery, Jongdae was enjoying it. He quickly scanned his belongings after moving them out of the trunk of his car—three cardboard boxes plus a handbag, a bit too little for a year of living. But it was enough for Jongdae; he felt lighter without all the stuff—burdens—that he had left back in his Seoul apartment. 

As the white front door with peeling paint creaked open, the house revealed itself to be just as rusted and antique as Jongdae had suspected it to be from the outside. His aunt hadn’t returned here ever since a chronic illness incapacitated her legs. Thus, a layer of dust, accumulated through years of human absence, covered everything. Jongdae sighed. He had a lot of cleaning to do. Fortunately, though scarce, the furniture was largely intact and usable. He would have to deal with the aesthetics later, but now, overtaken by fatigue, all he wanted was sleep.

\---

Jongdae jolted awake at the sound of his phone’s ringtone, his head spinning and throat dry. The living room seemed shades darker than when he first walked in, and the time on his phone screen confirmed it—he passed out for nearly one and a half hours. 

Remembering the reason he woke up, Jongdae squinted at the name of the caller. It was Jongin. 

“Did you fall asleep on the sofa, hyung.” Though a question, Jongin deadpanned in such an affirmative tone that Jongdae knew his younger brother knew the answer. The facetime window revealed a sweat-soaked Jongin, breaths sounding a bit uneven, and Jongdae could hear chattering in the background. At 5:30, Jongin must have just ended practice. 

“I drove for five hours!” was Jongdae’s defense. “You don’t understand what age does to your stamina.”

“You are only two years older than me, hyung. Maybe if you stop living like an old hag and start exercising, stamina wouldn’t be a problem.”

Jongdae rolled his eyes; this was not the first time he had heard this argument. Then he heard suspicious snickering in the background.

“Is Sehun there with you?” Jongdae asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the owner of that laughter.

“Yes I am, and you know Jongin’s right, Jongdae-hyung!” The camera swung to reveal the tall choreographer, who was striding towards Jongin. Jongdae chuckled, knowing he was on the losing side of the argument and waving at Sehun as a greeting.

“Seriously though, how is the trip, hyung? You like the place? Did it change a lot?” The camera swung back to Jongin as he bombarded Jongdae with questions, eyes bright and expectant. 

Jongin’s expressions were always infectious, and Jongdae felt his dull headache subside a little with his brother’s bubbly excitement. It was uniquely Jongin and what people find the most different between the brothers other than their unmatching heights. Throughout his twenties, Jongdae had lost most of his youthful giddiness and became like a rounded jade, smooth, warm and lucid albeit quiet and reserved. On the other hand, merciless time seemed to have no effect on Jongin. And in those shining eyes Jongdae could still see his brother as his 10-year-old self, energetic and radiant like the sun. 

“I’m satisfied,” Jongdae answered as briefly and truthfully as he could, not wanting to dampen his brother’s mood. “But this place is old, just like your hyung.”

Jongin’s face disappeared from the camera as he threw his head back, bursting into high-pitched cackling. Jongdae couldn’t help but chuckle himself. Self-deprecating humor aside, he was being honest. The house was much more spacious than his old apartment—the void created by the lack of objects almost seemed liberating. Jongdae felt like his head had finally pushed through the water, and the air was finally free to be breathed in again.

When the laughter subsided and Jongin’s face returned to the camera, he looked much more serious, and Jongdae could almost see a tinge of sadness floating in his brother’s eyes. But Jongin still offered a warm smile.

“Anyways, I’m glad you arrived safely, hyung. Stay healthy and call often or I’ll drive there myself and punch you in the face, you hear me?”

“Aigoo, our Jonginnie,” Jongdae laughed as Jongin pouted, “don’t worry, I will. Now go do whatever you need to do.”

“Okay, hyung,” Jongin looked like he wanted to say more, but stopped the words before they reached his mouth, “Junmyeon-hyung will probably call later. Bye!”

Having hung up the phone, Jongdae sighed as he stood, the plastic tarp hastily put over the couch rustling. The sky was a dark yellowish gray and it was getting harder to see in the semi-darkness. When a warm but dull orange hue filled the room as Jongdae clicked the lightswitch, Jongdae silently thanked himself for calling the utilities company two days prior to make sure water and electricity were working.

He’s got a lot to do before he can settle down for the night.


	2. Butterfly Effect

_On a night where even the air is silent,_ _  
__My exhausted heart can’t fall asleep._ _  
__At the end of the tunnel I wandered alone,_ _  
__Then a warm breath reached me._ _  
__At the touch of your soft breath,_  
 _My heart finds a place to rest,_ _  
And you surround me._

Jongdae’s life as a computer engineer before his sabbatical did not afford him a regular circadian rhythm. Sleep ranged from a few hours of afternoon napping to passing out drunk for 18 hours after finishing a project. So for him, closing his eyes when daylight was still shining through his window or opening them in a pitch-dark room was nothing unusual.

Though all the deadlines, projects, meetings and presentations had been whisked away into the oblivion of unwanted memory, Jongdae’s body was too used to the torture. He would find himself startling awake in the dead of the night as if awoken by a jarring alarm or sometimes falling asleep at the coffee table in the early afternoon and waking up when the streetlights had been lit for hours.

To him, if there was previously one good thing about his severe lack of sleep and an irregular resting schedule, it was that he never dreamt. Jongdae couldn’t remember when he had stopped dreaming, probably during his second year as a high school senior when stress rendered him too tired to stare at his ceiling waiting to fall asleep or to dream. Thus, all his unconscious hours had been spent in blissful peace where every sound, movement and the ticking of time was whisked out.

Suddenly left with no external stress and fatigue, however, Jongdae had started dreaming again. He never could remember them well, but they were all extraordinarily fantastical and strange, logic-defying tales of comedy and tragedy in an alternate universe. And he found himself increasingly intrigued by them, trying desperately to grasp on and to remember. But with each tick of the clock they slipped quietly and unstoppably away, leaving him to stare at the dark ceiling of the bedroom, head empty and a tiny portion of his heart lost.

Ironically, the most frequent dream that visited him and the one he remembered with startling clarity was a nightmare. Though quite fond of sea views, Jongdae had always been fearful of and unsettled by large bodies of dark water. In his dreams, he would always be overcome by the water, teal blue at its edges but dark and obscure deeper down. He would drown, first bobbling in and out of the water, then slowly sinking, throat stuffed and limbs immobilized. It was like a slow-motion, silent movie—no words, no actions, only the agonizing panic and fear clawing at his heart, making it pound harder and faster until his eyelids thrust open and he sat up, hyperventilating.

He dreamt that nightmare again. 

When Jongdae sat up abruptly, chest heaving and eyes moist, the feeble red light from his alarm was the only thing illuminating his bedroom. 

Beside his own heavy breathing, the only sounds Jongdae could hear were the quiet humming of the fan and the crashing waves in the distance, gentle and rhythmic, whispering messages sent from another shore. It was quiet compared to the constant noises that unrelentingly plagued Seoul day and night.

Though there was but one source of illumination, the room wasn’t dark. There were traces of silver light, lines that danced along the edges of the armchair, the bookshelf, and the tall lamp standing silently in the corner. His sight followed them, eventually landing on the window—a dark, blank canvas framed by a ring of light, the white windowpane shining silver. 

Jongdae lifted his blanket and got up, the autumn chill making him shiver as he stepped onto the cold wooden floor. He walked towards the window and lifted the curtain. The night was clear; the moon was full and bright while stars scattered throughout, twinkling, dancing and shifting as thin clouds passed over them, hiding them for transitory moments. 

Enchanted, he stared for a long time, feeling his breathing slowly falling into its regular pace. Thanks to his irregular habits, all thoughts of sleep then evaded him. Going back to bed and trying for fifteen minutes without success, Jongdae gave up and decided to go for a walk.

The temperature had dropped significantly compared to the daytime. Despite arming himself with a heavy jacket, Jongdae still shivered as he locked the front door. Now outside, the sound of the crashing waves seemed a bit louder, and Jongdae started breathing in sync with the rhythm, the tapping sounds his shoes made against the pavement clicking along. 

The town was fantastical in the night, and Jongdae wondered if he was still sleeping, traversing one of his bizarre dreams. The monotonous grey that lined the alleys of Jongdae’s neighborhood in the day became indistinguishable, now not much different from the colorful houses squashed together up the hill. The night was non-discriminatory, and everything took on a strange beauty in the vague murkiness. The streets were deep in their slumber, all windows dark and hardly any light permeated the veil of darkness other than a few street lights spaced far and wide. Occasional barks could be heard as Jongdae passed by, but they quickly quieted down since the dogs themselves could not seem to keep their eyes open in this tranquility. 

With no destination in mind, Jongdae took turns at random intervals and started climbing up the hill. Twenty-some minutes of climbing was already making his breath short, and Jongdae remembered Jongin’s remark about him being an old hag. Jongdae huffed in defiance but then chuckled, recognizing with a bit of guilt that he might indeed need to work out a bit more if he didn’t want to “live like a 90-year-old,” as Jongin said. But he was determined not to let this three-a.m. exercise get the better of him—he could almost hear Jongin snickering two hundred miles away. 

Other than the one time he, Yixing and Junmyeon took a midnight drive to the coast during college, Jongdae had never really seen the night sea. Now, bent over and panting at the top of the small hilled neighborhood, Jongdae studied it in more detail. In the daytime, it was a tumulting grey that was hardly distinguishable from the similar-colored sky. And in all honesty, it was not much different, now a black mass against a dark sky. But something indeed changed: the lighthouse, so faded and inconspicuous in the daytime, was now lit at the top, so breathtakingly bright and warm, illuminating the white rims of the waves crashing along its stony isle. 

Jongdae turned away, suddenly overwhelmed by the loneliness of it all, only to come face to face with another light, coming from the first and only illuminated house he had encountered on his scroll. It was a small pub with “Universe” written in cursive on top with orange neon lights. The sign was permanent and warm, not fleeting and cold like the street lights. It engulfed Jongdae as he stood fixed, feeling the revitalization of his numb cheeks. He could not see inside, but a dimmer light was coming through its windows and the signage on the door read “open,” so Jongdae walked in. 

The interior of the pub had a rather modern, industrial look, quite contradictory to the rusty, nostalgic air of the town. The walls were painted a sleek, dark color, and the ceilings were high. The overhanging lights were rather dim and cast shadows upon the long, narrow wooden tables placed in an orderly fashion around the small space. As far as Jongdae could discern, there were no customers. To the left was a small stage with a mic stand in the center and a piano to the right. The right, rather unusual for a pub, was lined with books and artifacts on dark steel shelves. Directly opposite the door, in the back, was the bar. A man clad in a white button-down shirt was initially crouching behind the table stand and rose upon the sound of Jongdae entering.

The man was young with a curved, almost childish face. His hair was light blond, glowing under the light; it was casually styled but a bit messy with soft locks hanging down his forehead randomly. His features were innocent and gentle, the corners of his eyes tilting slightly upwards, a playful combination with his delicate nose and flowing, cherry-red lips. He stood in the halo of light emitted from the ceiling, almost angelic in his unassuming beauty. It was too breathtaking, too surreal, and Jongdae stood awestruck, transfixed as if still stuck in one of his murky, fantastical dreams. 

“Sorry, we are—“ The man paused his melodic voice upon seeing Jongdae, and after a beat of silence, continued, “never mind, welcome in.”

Despite his strange sensations, Jongdae hurriedly lowered his gaze, knowing that his intent staring had probably made the other uncomfortable. He made his way to the tall stools at the bar and took a seat directly in front of the bartender.

“What would you like to have for tonight?” The bartender smiled, and Jongdae felt his heart stir a bit too enthusiastically.

“A pint of Cass would be great, thank you.”

The man turned his back to prepare the drink while Jongdae glanced around the bar. The stock here seemed not much different from Seoul’s bars, with a smaller but well-selected variety that was not usual for a country pub.

“I assume you are new to town?” The bartender asked as he poured fizzing beer into a tall glass. Jongdae could see his hands, delicate and well-manicured. 

“Yes?” Jongdae was a bit surprised. Though the town wasn’t big, the population size probably didn’t enable each one of its inhabitants to be well-acquainted with each other.

The man chuckled; Jongdae liked the way the laugh sounded. “There’s only a handful of people in this sleepy town who are awake at this ungodly hour. I know all of them, and you are not on the list.” He turned around with the beer and a small dish of assorted nuts and chips, placing them in front of Jongdae. “Never drink with your stomach empty! I’m Kim Minseok, owner of this pub. Nice to meet you.”

“Kim Jongdae, my pleasure. You have a great selection here.”

“Oh, thank you. I like to give my patrons a lot of options. How does it compare to your metropolitan bars?”

When Jongdae’s eyes widened a bit in surprise again, Minseok looked a bit embarrassed and quickly proceeded to explain, “City people have very different ways of dress compared to people here, and you fit the style of a metropolitan dweller more. I apologize if I am being intrusive.”

“No, no, it’s all right,” Jongdae smiled his friendliest smile at the other to assure him, “I’m from Seoul. Your bar actually might be more well-stocked than the one I used to go to.”

“Then I must have done my job right!” Though it was strange, Jongdae found himself likening the pub owner’s proud expression to a seven-year-old bringing home his first school trophy, and somehow he found it incredibly endearing.

They chatted casually, jumping to random topics and occasionally sitting in silence. Taking a sip from his glass while listening to Minseok talk about a new brand of soju that he discovered during a road trip, Jongdae realized that he hadn’t had such a casual, unpurposeful and lengthy conversation in a long time. It had been so long that Jongdae almost forgot how to make a conversation not about javascript, the new product that his company’s rival was planning, or the agenda for the next meeting. But with Minseok, words came naturally, and little by little Jongdae rediscovered the rush of joy in simply talking without a specific goal in mind, of hearing another voice sharing thoughts on drinks, sports, news or even the weather. 

Before he knew it, he found himself longing to stay longer, to know the person before him better, to take a step forward. And just like that, a seedling had taken root in the tumulting, hollow mass that was his chest, waiting for the rain, the snow, the sunshine and the spring breeze to finally stretch its roots and gently call the void back to life.


	3. With You

_Tonight it feels like I won’t be able to sleep,_ _  
__But I never knew it would feel this nice,_ _  
__Especially when I’m able to spend time_ _  
__Imagining you._ _  
__We talk all night long,_ _  
__Asking about how each other's days were._ _  
__And when you say this is the best part._   
_I shine even brighter thanks to you._

Jongdae sneezed as he locked his front door, the vibration almost shaking the keys out of his hands. The nights were getting colder and the wind blew harder; when Jongdae sniffed, he could almost feel the numbing sting characteristic of winter air in his nostrils. 

It was another sleepless night, and in the month after his discovery of “Universe,” the pub had been a frequent destination whenever his random insomnia kicked in. That night was no different, and he was looking forward to it—during his previous visit, Minseok had been talking excitedly about a cocktail blend he had been experimenting with and promised to let Jongdae taste it.

Becoming familiar with Minseok seemed incredibly natural, and Jongdae himself was quite surprised. Though often praised by others as warm and considerate, he never was an outgoing person and hardly sought to make acquaintances actively. He preferred to keep his circle small and private, having only a handful of close friends. 

Only two years older than Jongdae, Minseok was very likable, and the two of them seemed in sync. They had similar book preferences, watched similar shows, and had little habits that mirrored each other. Their similarities seemed to have placed Jongdae on an accelerated train, and within the month of their acquaintance, the boundaries between pub owner-patron and friends were already blurred. 

He could now make his way up the hill with relative ease; Jongin would be proud. As he approached the warm neon sign that read “Universe,” he was surprised to see a figure open the door and walk out hurriedly. Most of Minseok’s customers would have left by then. Jongdae moved a little to the side on the curb, looking at the figure—a man—with amused eyes, for he was cursing the cold even while wrapped in a heavy jacket. Then Jongdae started a little when the other screamed “a ghost!” and almost fell upon noticing him. 

“Don’t stand there like that, dude! That’s too scary, for god’s sake!” The man gripped at his chest as he struggled to get his breath straight after making sure that Jongdae was indeed a human. 

“Sorry about that,” Jongdae smiled apologetically. Upon seeing him smile, the man grinned, “Nah, you’re fine, it’s just that usually, no normal humans would walk around in this town at the ungodly hour of 1:30 in the morning.”

“But you are up as well” almost flew out of Jongdae’s mouth before he decided to keep the thought to himself, explaining instead, “Just wanted to take a stroll and have a drink; sleep eludes me.” 

“Ah, I see, you must be Jongdae! Minseok-hyung has told me about you. Good to have you here since pretty much everyone else in this town sleeps as if they are dead,” the man rolled his eyes but then smiled cheerily and held out his hand, “I’m Byun Baekhyun. When I feel like it, I sometimes sing at Minseok hyung’s pub, not that he pays me anyways. A pleasure to meet you!” 

_So that explains why he is up,_ Jongdae silently thought. He shook Baekhyun’s hand and smiled, “Kim Jongdae, nice to meet you.”

“Well, Jongdae-ssi, I must head off now, can’t stand this damn cold any longer. Good night!” With that Baekhyun waved at Jongdae and walked off, jogging a little to keep away the biting iciness. 

“That’s Baekhyun. He works at the city government,” was Minseok’s reply when Jongdae asked him about it. “Old friend—we practically grew up together.”

“Ah. He said he sings here as well?”

“Yeah, he comes whenever he has time. Don’t say this to him, but I’m very thankful that he’s willing to do that.”

Jongdae chuckled at Minseok’s slightly flustered end tone, earning a slight pout.

“Too bad you missed his performance today. You should come on Friday, at an earlier time. I’m not a professional in music, but he’s actually a really brilliant singer—the locals love him.”

“Wow, hyung, building up the anticipation! Sure, I’ll be here at nine.” He made an ok sign and grinned, taking the drink Minseok handed him. 

The cocktail was a gradient of blue, starting with navy and ending in an almost-transparent ice blue. Though on the colder end of the color spectrum, it looked curiously warm and inviting in the pub’s soft ambient light. Jongdae took a sip. As the liquid flowed across his tongue, Jongdae felt the explosion of flavors on his palette with a slight sting at the end like an electric shock.

“I really like this,” Jongdae commented, meeting the pub owner’s expectant and slightly nervous gaze. 

Relief flooded over Minseok’s face, and he flashed his gummy smile that Jongdae often found too much to bear. “That’s great to hear! I’m planning to call this Snow Spark.”

“That is a brilliant name, hyung,” Jongdae took another sip, “couldn’t have described it more perfectly.”


	4. Nosedive

_Some people turn me into someone who isn’t me._ _  
__They put me up and down, then they leave me._

 _Maybe I got stronger, maybe I got indifferent._ _  
__I used to cry only once or twice a year,_ _  
__But now tears are coming, On this hidden path._

 _When my heart heard that song,_ _  
__It melted a little._ _  
__The reason is all stress,_ _  
__I don’t wanna break down._ _  
__Should I just endure and disappear?_   
_It’s the price of holding it all in._

The pub was quite full when Jongdae walked in as the clock ticked nine on Friday. The frigid late-autumn winds had not stopped people from seeking enjoyment on a weekend night. 

Jongdae scanned the area for a vacant seat. Most of the customers were people much older than himself, as was the general town population—grizzled fishermen, a few office workers, truck drivers, and so on. They were huddled around the benches in groups, drinking and talking merrily, waiting for the performance to begin. He found Minseok waving at him from behind the bar, pointing to a vacant stool at the end of the bar near the stage.

Jongdae took a seat just as Baekhyun walked out from the employee section. When the latter saw Jongdae, his smile became so wide that his eyes turned into crescents.

“Jongdae! Glad you could come!” The singer had a similar energy to a puppy, energetic, fresh and making one want to smile. So Jongdae smiled back, saying, “Of course. Minseok-hyung told me it’d be a terrible loss if I missed your performance.”

Baekhyun turned to Minseok, giggling and slapping the elder’s shoulders, “Oh really! Minseokkie-hyung!”

Jongdae watched with amusement as Minseok’s ears became suspiciously red. The pub owner shoved at the singer in a non-reprimanding way, averting his teasing gaze as he mumbled, “Hey, you punk! Go sing now!”

After getting his fair share of giggles, Baekhyun let go and made his way to the stage. Jongdae watched, amazed, as Baekhyun seemed to transform with each step he took. The singer became calmer, the wide smile fading while the radiance and warmth remained. His demeanor changed as he took a seat in front of the piano and opened the lid, fingers delicate and motions gentle as if treating something holy. 

The pub quieted down, and the crowd waited in anticipation. 

When the first note on the piano rang out and Baekhyun opened his mouth to sing, Jongdae’s heart churned as he saw and heard something that he once knew so well, or perhaps still did. The pure, uncontaminated love for the melodic notes, passionate and unrestrained, flowed out of Baekhyun’s voice. Such true emotions had no professional boundaries, and the audience no doubt was deeply impacted. Led by Baekhyun’s voice and his flying fingers, they wandered into the song’s narrative as if entering a dream.

Jongdae didn’t know the song despite having heard of it multiple times throughout the years. But he remembered its emotions—the tingling sadness, like a dreary day in late autumn, calm and beautiful, but woeful at what had passed and what was to come. He loved singing songs like these in high school, imagining and immersing himself in their narratives. But they all became searing scars when he failed the music exam for college, laughing at the irony that he no longer needed to imagine the misfortunes, for he was the protagonist.

Time, however merciless, was able to wash away most of the pain. His old dreams stuffed in a mental drawer not to be opened again, he redid senior year, slaving away at academic subjects he never bothered in before, and got into a decent university for computer engineering. By some twisted fate, he ended up in a music production company working on software, earning what many would think to be an admirable salary but never stepping foot in the studio again. 

Jongdae never regretted his choices, not to mention his lifestyle and schedule forced him to look forward only, leaving any sense of doubt or nostalgia for the drunken hours he spent sitting on his apartment floor, staring out at the gleaming metropolis. Even those were brief, because time never waited, and the next morning, he was always up and ready, though the dark circles under his eyes betrayed him. But maybe it was the liquor, the absence of time pressure or maybe it was the particular melancholy tone that Baekhyun sang in. Jongdae felt a trace of warmth leave his eye and glide down his cheek, arriving near his lips, bitter. He turned his head hurriedly and wiped it away.

One meter away, Minseok watched as the crystal-like droplet, painted a whole range of colors by the lighting, left those long eyelashes and glided down. He also saw the tiny, self-mocking smile that followed soon after.


	5. Flower

_In my sleepless and waiting heart,_ _  
_ _I hope spring will hurry and come._ _  
_ _So the spring wind that came after winter,_ _  
_ _Can enter me once again._

Two months into his sabbatical and Jongdae had already visited the little octagonal gazebo more than 30 times. It was a nice spot on top of the mountain overlooking the sea, but it required such a hideous trek to get to that most people didn’t bother. Jongdae, on the other hand, made it his routine. Jongin would be doubly proud—the amount of exercise that his hyung was undertaking in addition to climbing up to Minseok’s pub was astonishing. 

Once in the gazebo, Jongdae would sit there for hours, unmoving, watching the roads and the grey waves foaming beneath. Monotonous, unchanging. The waves came crashing in again, roaring furiously, just like they have been since the beginning of time. 

And Jongdae loved the gazebo for that. It seemed to be stuck in a particular time loop, out of the grip of the ticking clock. Not going forward nor looking backward; the beginning unintelligible and the ending not in sight. It was as if Jongdae himself could control time there, stopping and breathing for a bit at his own leisure. 

The sound of someone catching their breath broke Jongdae’s vacant stare and made him turn his head. He had company this time, and even more surprisingly, it was Kim Minseok. 

This was the first time Jongdae had seen the pub owner out in the daylight. The soft glow created as sunlight danced across Minseok’s slightly sweaty face made Jongdae’s heart skip a beat. He was wearing workout clothes, and Jongdae, for the first time, noticed how toned the other man was. 

“Mind if I join you?” Minseok grinned, breathing still a bit uneven. 

“Not at all,” Jongdae smiled back, scooting over a little on the outward-facing bench to make space for Minseok. The other sat down and drank from his water bottle, and it was silent for a while as both of them stared out into the open view.

“Do you come here often?” Jongdae turned a little towards Minseok.

“Once or twice every two weeks. I don’t usually run this route since it's very long, so I only do it if I know I have enough time. What about you?” Minseok looked at Jongdae’s sweater and heavy coat. “You’re not here for a workout, I assume.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae laughs, “not that type of person. It’s for peace of mind, I suppose. The view is gorgeous here. A spot this beautiful would have been packed with people if this was somewhere near Seoul.”

“Sounds about right,” Minseok agrees. He took a deep breath, “it’s very calming here. Must be nice for a change.”

“Very,” Jongdae nodded. “Didn’t believe my mom at first, but I guess she’s always right.”

“Does your mom live here?”

“No, all my family are in Seoul. My aunt has a summer house here, though, she used to spend all her summers here. My mom visited before and thought it was very nice.”

Jongdae was a bit surprised when Minseok didn’t press further on the matter, which would have inevitably led to a discussion of his sabbatical; the other simply turned their topic to something else. But he was grateful nonetheless, not knowing how capable he was of wording the rest of it out himself. It was best to give it a bit of time, he thought, staring out at the ocean again, at his own pace.

Maybe that’s why he and Minseok were so comfortable with each other. Minseok was like the waves, accepting and encompassing, creating a small niche of space where time didn’t matter, where it was okay to wait. 

Still buried deep in his heart, the little seedling enjoyed its first drizzle of rain. And just like that, it grew.

  
  



	6. What A Life

_I work to play,_ _  
__And I work as if I’m playing._ _  
__It feels like being a Taoist hermit,_   
_What a life, what a life, what a life!_

Jongdae wasn't the safest driver out there. He knew better than to get Junmyeon started on it, because he could go on and on about how that one time he needed a ride from Jongdae almost cost his life in the form of a heart attack. But in Jongdae’s own defense, he simply didn’t like to drive slow. 

Junmyeon would be glad to learn that Jongdae’s new residence was curing him of this “bad” habit. Here, Jongdae had no choice but to drive slowly, given the frequent pedestrian crossings and the constant trickle of pedestrians on them. For that reason, Jongdae chose not to drive as much. The town wasn’t big enough to need frequent automobile transport anyways. 

So it was quite rare that Jongdae took his car out onto the streets, and the day warranted that special occasion because he needed to pick up some furniture he had ordered for the house. 

Even though it was winter, Jongdae still liked to leave a crack of his window open to feel the chilling breeze. The sky was clear, hardly any clouds on the background of watery blue—Jongdae’s favorite color. The open view from his windshield with no skyscrapers in the way was very pleasant though hard to get used to at first. Jongdae couldn’t help but smile as he hummed to the tune of the song playing on the radio. Even the annoying speed limit wasn't that irritating anymore, and Jongdae was glad that he could enjoy the town’s scenery at (he rolled his eyes) a more reasonable speed. 

It took some effort to stuff the rugs, curtains, and chairs into his small car, but Jongdae managed to do it with the help of exceptionally friendly staff at the furniture store. Waiting for his engine to warm up, Jongdae noticed a figure, who with a closer look turned out to be Minseok, walking on the sidewalk in his direction, holding a leash that led to a cat. He was wearing a beige coat with a fluffy light grey scarf, and Jongdae found the way half of Minseok’s face was buried in the scarf an adorable sight.

He rolled down his window and waved. “Hyung!”

“Jongdae!” Though Jongdae couldn’t see Minseok’s mouth, he could tell by the way his eyebrows and eyes lifted that he was smiling. Minseok quickened his steps as he approached and stopped in front of Jongdae, who had poked his head out of the window.

“Fancy seeing you here. What for?” 

Jongdae pointed at the bursting load stuffed into his car with a sigh. “My furniture arrived today; gotta lighten up the house a bit. Didn’t know you have a cat, hyung, though I wouldn’t say I’m surprised.”

Minseok laughed, “I’m taking that as a compliment. Tan here,” the Norwegian forest cat meowed when it heard its name as if acknowledging it, “needs to go to his regular check-up at the vet.” 

“I can give you a ride if you want,” Jongdae offered, pointing to the still miraculously vacant passenger seat in his car. 

“It’s okay, thank you for the offer Jongdae, the hospital is just a few blocks from here. You’re more than welcome to come along, though. Meet Chanyeol the vet,” Minseok offered. Tan meowed again as if in agreement, continuing to stare at Jongdae curiously.

“Sure,” Jongdae chuckles, turning off the now warmed up engine without hesitation. As he locked his car, Tan approached with his tail up and started rubbing himself on Jongdae’s pant legs. Jongdae bent down to rub at the feline’s back. 

“You’re Tan-approved,” Minseok said with a slight hint of amazement, “this boy almost clawed Baekhyun’s eyes out when they first met.”

“Hmm,” Jongdae rubbed his hands against Tan’s face, “maybe because he’s like a puppy—”

“And you’re more like a cat,” Minseok finished the sentence, looking fondly at the kitty curls widened into a grin of pure joy. 

“Exactly,” Jongdae nodded, “but dogs love me, too. I guess I’m fluffy-animal approved.”

Minseok laughed at that, and they walked side-by-side with Tan in the middle.

“I overheard Baekhyun mention Chanyeol the first time I met him in front of your pub.”

“About his observatory?”

“I think so.”

“Yeah, it’s really cool. He’s really into astronomy so he built it himself on the mountain over to the south. The view from there is beautiful.”

All that for a hobby. Though Jongdae hadn’t met the vet yet, he was already quietly amazed by his tenacity and passion. Deep down in his heart, however, he could understand, and he admired Chanyeol even more for the fact that he actually achieved it.

Jongdae felt another rush of gratefulness for Minseok. He had welcomed the younger into his circle with open arms and thrived to make Jongdae’s transition as smooth as possible, introducing him to his own acquaintances. But none of it was forceful and pushing. Jongdae knew that if he refused, Minseok wouldn’t have pushed, judged him or treated him any differently. 

“Chanyeol-ah, we’re here!” Minseok called as they stepped into the small but clean and orderly clinic. A young man about their age, presumably Chanyeol, hurried out through a door near the end of the hallway to greet them, and Jongdae had to do a double-take when he realized just how ridiculously tall the vet is.

“I see you’ve brought a guest!”

“This is Jongdae, he knows Baek and comes to my bar regularly. Jongdae, this is Chanyeol.” Minseok introduced them briefly, smiling as the two bowed and exchanged greetings. Jongdae soon discovered that Chanyeol, though towering and rather muscular, wasn’t threatening at all with his huge shining eyes, flapping ears and a wide smile.

The check-up was not complex but Chanyeol took great care in every step, making sure that there was nothing he missed that could potentially be a health problem. He still made small talk with the two humans nonetheless and answered Minseok’s questions while Jongdae wandered around the space. One particular wall was lined with pictures of Chanyeol and his animal patients, ranging from a green parrot to a horse named “Boba,” labeled with dates. Chanyeol’s grin never left his face in all of them, and Jongdae could feel Chanyeol’s love for his patients pouring out of every picture. 

The check-up finished at around the same time and Tan was as healthy as he could be. Chanyeol hurriedly put on his jacket, informing Minseok and Jongdae that he needed to perform a surgery on a farm two hours' drive away so he couldn’t chat any longer. 

“Always so busy, always on the move,” Minseok chuckled in a resigned manner as they watched Chanyeol drive away. “He works every day and stays up late in his observatory sometimes. It’s a wonder how he’s able to keep this all up while staying healthy.”

Jongdae hummed in reply, deep in thought at the same question though he thought he knew the answer.


	7. Been Through

_This isn’t the end, better days will come._ _  
__At the end of that day, you’ll shine on me like this._ _  
__The sun is behind the clouds that cover the light._ _  
__Without change, you shine on me forever._ _  
__The quiet air, the warm wind,_   
_They’re all there, always in the same place._

This year’s New Year’s Eve fell on a Tuesday, and Jongdae would sound like such a loner if he said he originally planned on spending it alone in his house, drinking something hot and watching a nice movie. 

He would have gone back to Seoul for a quick gathering, but Jongin was off to a New Year's gala performance and their parents were on a well-deserved vacation to Hawaii. Yixing lived in China. Sehun and Junmyeon were visiting their own families. Nonetheless, he received a menacing call from his friends warning him not to spend his New Years alone or face consequences. And that was partly the reason why when Baekhyun and Minseok invited him to join them along with Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, their mutual friend whom Jongdae hadn’t met yet, at Chanyeol’s observatory to celebrate the New Year, he accepted without hesitation. That, and also the fact that he would like to enjoy some pleasant company. 

Baekhyun never believed in doorbells, so Jongdae was startled out of his sleep by the sound of savage knocking on Tuesday morning. Then when he opened the door still sleepy-eyed and hair a mess, he was greeted with a snowball to his face and Baekhyun’s cheerful declaration of “it’s snowing!”

Jongdae could hear Baekhyun shrieking with laughter just steps away. So with a speed quicker than lightning, he bent down, scooped up a pile of snow and hurled it towards Baekhyun’s face. The laughter stopped, and Baekhyun yelled out from the cold.

 _Serves you right, you li'l punk._ Jongdae smirked. Let the match begin. 

The heated snow fight ended with them panting, stomachs cramped from laughter. Jongdae finally had time to look around. It was rather magical that the first snow of that winter fell on New Year's Eve. The world outside had turned white, pure and uncontaminated, unlike in Seoul, where the snow turned dark rather quickly from all the foot and car traffic. Large white particles were still falling from the sky, and Jongdae watched as one of them landed on his nose and quickly melted away. 

After going inside to get dressed properly, Jongdae followed Baekhyun to the supermarket since Baekhyun explained that their task was to buy the ingredients needed for Kyungsoo the chef to work his magic. 

Jongdae didn’t remember when he stopped enjoying going to supermarkets, it seemed long enough that maybe he never enjoyed it at all. To him, it was boring and time-consuming, the same list of things to buy, identical shelves, all stuffed and suffocating. 

But Jongdae had to say, going grocery shopping with Baekhyun was a very peculiar experience. Even though Jongdae was sure Baekhyun had visited the same store hundreds of times before, he still looked around excitedly as if it was his first time.

“You don’t understand,” Baekhyun protested when he found the other looking at him with critical eyes, “they often put up new products and surprise items! And today’s New Year's Eve, it’s all the more likely!”

Jongdae, already a bit infected by Baekhyun’s enthusiasm and the impending festivities, sighed and let the matter go.

Baekhyun continued his energetic parade as he combed through each shelf, holding up various products for Jongdae to tell him about his experience and opinions on each. Sometimes he would stop in front of a product and examine the label closely, deciding whether he should try the new brand or not. 

“How do you have time to do all of this?” Jongdae could only gawk.

“Not all the time, of course,” Baekhyun laughed, tossing a packet of sausages into their cart, “but I do it whenever my schedule allows me to. It makes shopping more interesting, always something new to try, always some chance to howl at inflation.” He scowled, making a serious but comical face, and Jongdae couldn’t help but laugh.

And just like that, they had wandered amongst the shelves for well over an hour. Baekhyun’s arrival with an armful of beef slices pulled Jongdae back from his thoughts. As he watched Baekhyun pile ungodly amounts of food into their cart like a squirrel preparing for winter, Jongdae felt the need to intervene. 

“I think that’s too—” He was interrupted when Baekhyun stuffed a head of lettuce into his arms, smirking and putting a finger against his mouth.

“Shhh— Just wait till you taste Chef Do’s secret hot pot recipe and then you won’t be able to stop eating; Kyungsoo’s not the most famous chef around for nothing.” Baekhyun winked and proceeded to stuff even more veggies into the bursting cart. 

The struggle up the mountain was a pain. Though the path leading to the observatory was flatter and less lengthy than the one leading to the gazebo, it was still hard since it was snowing and they were carrying huge shopping bags. By the time they reached the observatory doors, both were panting and rather soaked beneath their winter gear. Despite this, Jongdae was still able to take a close look at the observatory.

It was a small wooden structure built on the side of the mountain sheltered from wind, snow or rain. Standing near the cliff, the observatory had a platform that opened up to a vast sky, glimpses of the town beneath, and the flowing mountains that stretched beyond the horizon. Jongdae could see two telescopes, one huge and the other smaller, covered in canvas standing on the platform. Chanyeol emerged onto the platform, still talking to someone inside when he discovered Baekhyun and Jongdae and waved at them enthusiastically.

The front door was soon opened by Minseok, who took some of their loads and urged them in. Inside was a large open room occupied by a foldable table in the middle, a few chairs and a bunk bed in the corner. A short, black-haired man with glasses—who Jongdae presumed to be Kyungsoo—was standing near the table preparing drinks. Jongdae could smell the delicious scent of hot cocoa.

“Kyungsoo!” Baekhyun rushed over to the chef, engulfing him in a hug that Kyungsoo accepted and reciprocated with a resigned but fond smile. “Haven’t seen you in a while!”

Then Jongdae and Kyungsoo were introduced to each other, and the pair as well as Minseok stayed inside to prepare food while Baekhyun joined Chanyeol on the platform to help him take care of his telescopes. 

The afternoon passed in banter and card games, with Baekhyun occasionally making a fool of himself while the other three doubled over in laughter. The cracking firewood and steadily falling snow made for great ambiance. Towards dusk, the snowing stopped and the sky became clear. They went out onto the platform, gazing at the rolling violet and blue clouds as well as the last rays of golden sunlight, all of which reflected onto the snow-covered landscape beneath, making it change frequently in color like a slideshow. 

Jongdae breathed in deeply and felt the familiar sting of winter inside his nose along with the smell of burnt firewood. He thought back to what he was doing at this time last year—crouched over his computer, working frantically to make adjustments for a software update. He had still been working when the clock struck twelve, brain pulsing and eyes straining, staring at the screen full of code before him. He had heard the festivities outside, and the fireworks had shot up into the sky and exploded in a bang, flaring lights strong enough that they had shone through closed blinds. Back then, those fireworks seemed to be the last straw that had struck his heart hollow. A surge of bitterness had overwhelmed him, a helpless sense of numb, cold despair for being utterly lost in a never-ending, pitch-dark tunnel. Even now, the time long past and thinking back, Jongdae could feel his heart tremble slightly. 

He felt a hand touch his arm lightly. He turned and found Minseok standing by his side with a small concerned smile on his lips. It was just them; the others were already heading back in to prepare for dinner.

“You okay? Is it too cold?” 

Jongdae looked around, taking in the scenery one more time and looking at the happy and bustling scene going on behind them in the warm glow of the observatory. Finally, his gaze settled back on Minseok’s face, glowing gold in the setting sun, eyes bright. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Jongdae smiled, “thank you for asking, hyung. Now that you mention it, it is very cold, let’s head inside!”

As they walked back side-by-side, their shadows were before them, long, and joined at the shoulders.

\---

Baekhyun really wasn’t kidding, Jongdae thought as he picked up another piece of tofu and dipped it in the brown, savory and heavenly sesame sauce. Though traditionally the Korean Army Stew didn’t need to be served with sesame sauce, Kyungsoo had made a few modifications that combined it with elements of the Chinese hot pot. And this was literally the best hotpot Jongdae had had in his life. 

Peering around the table, Jongdae could see that this feeling was mutual. Baekhyun was commenting on how good the food was between every bite, slurping his clear noodles noisily (which Jongdae suspected was intentional to annoy Kyungsoo, who was rubbing his temples with his eyes shut), Minseok had stockpiled a small mountain of food into his bowl, carefully combining them for the best taste and his eyes opened wide whenever he did it right, and was Chanyeol … crying?

It was already well past 11 when they devoured everything, scraps included, of the hot pot. Stomachs bursting with food, they all went back on the platform to stretch and wait for the count down. 

Jongdae understood why Chanyeol would build his observatory at this particular spot. Though not entirely filled with stars like more remote stargazing spots, the clear night sky was as full of them as one could possibly get in Korea. Having grown up in the flood of artificial night lights of Seoul, Jongdae stood mesmerized, staring up into the sky at the hundreds of tiny light spots, some dim and others bright, passing in and out of his sight. It was purely magical, and Jongdae could feel a vast openness around him, stretched out in a grand and infinite space through billions of years. No more constraint, no more suffocation, and he was free to breathe in, relax and be where he wanted to be.

“Ten!” Jongdae heard Chanyeol shout.

“Nine!” Baekhyun joined.

“Eight!” He heard Minseok’s voice as well.

“Seven!”

“Six!” Kyungsoo also started shouting.

“Five!” Jongdae heard his own voice too.

“Four!” It was a nice harmony, a beautiful blend of voices sharing the same excitement and anticipation.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!”

“Happy New Year!” The night exploded briefly in color as fireworks rose up, strips of various hues joining the silver twinkling stars. They were all reflected on the snow, and for a transitory moment, it seemed like everything—the hills, the forest, the buildings—was dancing along to the excitement. 

Jongdae didn’t know who initiated it, but he was pulled into a tight hug with all those around him, jumping joyfully and shouting like teenagers. Baekhyun started belting out a song and everyone else soon joined, spinning circles and dancing to the tune.

Amidst it all, Jongdae was content. Things were different, and it felt like something heavy that he didn’t even know was there was finally lifted from his chest.


	8. Lights Out

_Fall asleep in my arms, don’t wake up,_ _  
__Don’t feel lonely anymore._ _  
__Morning will come again,_ _  
__So you can peacefully smile at the end of this sadness._ _  
__Just turn off the lights today._

 _Like the clouds covering the sky,_ _  
__If you get covered too,_   
_I’ll shine on you._

“Can’t sleep again?” After sending off his last customer, Minseok approached Jongdae with a warm and slightly concerned smile. Jongdae had been sitting by the table next to the door, patiently waiting for Minseok to finish the last bits of his business operations. The insomnia was less frequent now, but it still occurred nonetheless.

“Yeah,” Jongdae answered, rubbing his face tiredly but smiling back at Minseok a little apologetically, “sorry I keep bothering you, hyung.”

“Nah, it’s my pleasure,” Minseok chuckles, “plus you always pay for your drinks, unlike Baekhyun.”

Though a bit sorry for Baekhyun, who, in his defense, sang at the pub for free, Minseok was pleased to see Jongdae’s smile becoming a little wider at that. Minseok had always found Jongdae’s smile a bit comical but incredibly endearing, especially the one where his brows and eyes turn into the < > emoji. An idea flashed across his mind.

“You know what, today’s your lucky day because hyung has a treat for you,” Minseok declared, winking at Jongdae. “Wait here for a bit.” He turned and hurried towards the employee’s room.

A few minutes later, Minseok returned with a large duffle bag. Jongdae became even more confused as he realized it must be Minseok’s workout bag. Not giving him a spare moment to think, Minseok urged Jongdae up and inspected his outfit closely.

Face heating and squirming a little under Minseok’s intense stare, Jongdae wondered if there was anything wrong with his clothes. He was wearing his pajama shirt under a heavy sweater and thick, comfortable pants, and he had his jacket placed on the stool next to him. Not the most classy outfit, but comfortable and fitting for a situation like this.

To Jongdae’s relief, Minseok nodded and patted his back, declaring that his clothes were Minseok-approved and proceeded to explain that their destination was quite cold and he wanted Jongdae to be well-insulated. After Minseok performed his usual closing routine, the pair headed out into the frigid January night. 

The instant temperature drop made both of them shiver, and Jongdae huddled his jacket closer. “Where are we going, hyung?” 

“Shh, you will know when we get there,” was the answer, and Minseok winked at Jongdae again, his eyes twinkling under the warm neon glow of the pub’s sign. Jongdae stood still for a brief moment, gazing at the beautiful man bathed in the light that made it seem like he was glowing himself, and it was as if his heart forgot the cold.

Halfway through their descent, Jongdae realized their destination - it was the lighthouse. But to Jongdae’s surprise, Minseok didn’t take the direct stairway descending down the cliff to the beach. Instead, he walked along the cliff, eventually stopping near a cluster of trees and shrubs at a lower altitude. 

Noticing Jongdae’s confusion, Minseok chuckled, “I like to consider this my secret pathway; it’s a shortcut. What’s the fun in going down the stairway, anyways?” With a knight-like bow, he held out his hand. “Now, will you give me the pleasure of joining me?” 

Jongdae snorted at Minseok’s dramatic actions, “I’m not that weak, hyung, I think I can manage.”

“Yeah, say that to yourself when you were panting like a dying man at the end of our hike last December.”

“Hyung! I have changed a lot since then!” Jongdae whined a little, but took Minseok’s hand nonetheless.

It was almost pitch dark among the trees and branches. Jongdae could hear the crunching of dry branches under his feet and the waves crashing along the shoreline. But most importantly, he could feel the hand holding him and guiding him—a warm, dry hand that reminded Jongdae of the spring sun, pressing and sending sparks into Jongdae’s palms through his firm, assuring hold. It pulled gently at times, urging Jongdae to come forward, and sometimes it stopped, warning Jongdae of a slight bump in their path. In the darkness, Jongdae could just make out the back of the owner of said hand, and he felt himself smile, heart beating steady at its most comfortable pace.

“I didn’t know you also did lighthouse maintenance?!” Though he knew where they were heading, Jongdae was still utterly shocked when Minseok pulled out a key from his pocket, clearly intended for the door at the back of the lighthouse.

“Not me,” Minseok smiled while unlocking the door, “it’s my uncle. He gave me a spare key so I can come up here when I want to. You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“They will have to kill me first,” Jongdae winked and saluted. Chuckling, Minseok swung open the door. 

The first floor was rather small, barely enough space for the bed and desk furnished there. A spiral staircase wound up around the cylindrical building at the opposite end to where the two were standing. The structure was old but undoubtedly clean and well-maintained. 

Minseok took out two pairs of slippers from a nearby drawer. “Take off your shoes—you can wear my slippers, I will use my uncle's. Let’s head on up.”

Jongdae pretended to roll his eyes but ended up smiling—Minseok’s cleanliness was showing. He followed the other up the stairs in the semi-darkness, the only light source being the huge light shining on the top floor. They stopped midway on a platform that opened to a large window. To Jongdae’s surprise, they were already quite high above sea level, and the window provided a spectacular view of the ocean and the night sky.

Minseok fetched the compressible mattress standing in the corner. Then, he took out a dust roller from his duffle bag (Jongdae fake-rolled his eyes again) and thoroughly cleaned the now unfolded mattress. 

“Here, take a seat.”

As both of them settled down on the mat, Minseok pulled out a large blanket from his bag and busied himself with draping the blanket over them, making sure they were both comfortable. 

“This is where and how I like to stay when I come up here,” Minseok explains, turning his face towards Jongdae.

“Your secret hideout?”

“That’s a way to put it, I guess,” Minseok laughed. “You remember the time you said the gazebo is your place of calmness? Well, this is mine. I’ve been coming here since my late teens, and Dae, you are my first guest.” 

Warmth washed over Jongdae. He was sharing a secret with Minseok, a secret that only the twinkling stars and themselves know. His vision became a little blurred and he felt a sudden urge to pull the man in front of him into his arms, to bathe in the warmth and angelic beauty that radiated off of him, to share the same breath and drink in the rich, deep hazel lying at the bottom of his eyes. But a part of him was uncertain, scared, and in the end, he carefully leaned his head on Minseok’s shoulders, lips trembling slightly along with his heart as he said, “Thank you for bringing me here, hyung.” 

“Of course,” came the reply, and Jongdae felt a sense of warmth on his head—Minseok had leaned his own head against Jongdae’s. 

They fell into a comfortable silence, and Jongdae looked out of the window into the night. Along the distant, indistinguishable horizon, he could see the tiny lights of a few ships as if they were reflections of the stars. Closer to shore, the waves were laced with dim silver linings as they pounded onto the sand and left without a trace. He could hear Minseok breathing, peaceful intakes of air and the smooth transfer of it out of the lungs, arriving and retreating just like the waves. 

“If you listen carefully, all the waves sound different. And if you listen for long enough, you can almost predict how the next one will sound.” Jongdae heard Minseok say, his pleasant voice echoing faintly in the tower, “the next one’s gonna sound like thunder.”

True to his words, the dark mass of water came crashing in with a thud, a sound so loud and impactful that it left Jongdae’s ears vibrating slightly and his heart beating a little faster. It was just like the distant clap of thunder on a stormy day. 

“See? I was right.” Minseok was laughing quietly, and though Jongdae could not see it, he could imagine Minseok’s sparkling eyes turning into a crescent as he smiled his gummy smile, prideful like a young child. Contentment filled Jongdae’s heart, and a tinge of sleepiness was creeping into his mind. 

As his eyelids drooped and his mind succumbed to the hazy semi-consciousness of sleep, Jongdae found himself wishing that the moment would last longer and maybe into eternity. 

Jongdae woke to a soft voice calling his name and the feeling of warmth against his cheek. It took him a few seconds to realize that the source of warmth was someone’s fingertips and that both the voice and fingers belonged to Minseok. It took a few seconds more to recall his memory from a few hours ago, of the shared blanket, star-studded sky and the whispers of the sea. 

He found Minseok looking down at him with a fond smile, face reflecting the rosy hue of early morning sunlight. Realizing that he had been asleep in the other’s lap, Jongdae’s face turned red as he scrambled up, startling Minseok slightly and eliciting a hearty laugh. He was ready to apologize and do whatever Minseok asked him to do to repay his indebtedness, but Minseok waved away whatever he had in mind and urged him to look towards the window. 

It was the most beautiful sunrise that Jongdae had seen in his life. The sky was a full-color palette ranging from royal blue to flaming orange. The faint strokes of the moon could still be seen, fading slowly as the sun rose above the clouds, its golden rays permeating moisture and spreading glitters across the open sea. The water itself had a much lighter hue than in the night, and unlike the terror Jongdae felt in his nightmares, the teal blue color and rolling waves now calmed him. 

Jongdae turned his head slightly to look at Minseok whose eyes were wide open with excitement, his pupils almost golden. There was a small smile on his slightly open mouth, and Jongdae could swear that it was the purest embodiment of happiness.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Feeling his gaze, Minseok turned to face Jongdae fully, tone giddy with joy.

“Yes, it most certainly is.” _Because you are here,_ Jongdae added silently and he couldn’t help but break into a joyful smile himself, yearning to remain in the moment forever.


	9. Power

_We got that power, power,_ _  
__Through this music._ _  
__When we sing with one voice together,_ _  
__We get stronger._ _  
Turn the music up now._

While brunching with Jongdae and Minseok in Kyungsoo’s restaurant, Baekhyun looked like a dying fish out of water. He carped vehemently about his overbearing department head who never seemed to be satisfied with Baekhyun’s work. 

“Feeling better now?” Minseok asked as Baekhyun finished his vent.

Baekhyun shrugged, “Yeah, can’t change anything about that anyways. I gotta just take it as I go. But hey, at least he asked me to organize the Lunar New Year performance event at the nursing home!” At the mention of music and performances, Baekhyun seemed to come to life again, wriggling gleefully. “Hyung, you should come with me! I planned my performance as a duo.”

Minseok looked conflicted for a moment, then sighed heavily, “Sorry, Baekhyun-ah, I’m going to my parents’ house that day for a family reunion.”

Baekhyun’s face fell like an unhappy puppy. “Aw, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo couldn’t come either, they both have to work.” He turned to Jongdae and hesitated a little before he asked, “What about you, Jongdae? We’ve never sung together so I don’t know how willing you would be. It’s totally okay if you don’t want to! I can just ask one of my colleagues.”

Jongdae froze. He hardly ever sang in public after high school, after that exam, only performing for a handful of people in college once with the band he, Junmyeon and Yixing made. The locked chest of memories was starting to rattle, the scenes and emotions of the past clawing to be freed, and Jongdae knew the reason too well: there was a tiny voice inside him begging him to accept the offer. 

“Sorry, Baekhyun, can I think about it? I will give you an answer as soon as I decide.”

Baekhyun, who already looked wretched with guilt from putting Jongdae in a tight spot, immediately agreed, “Sure thing! Sorry for putting it on you all of a sudden.”

Baekhyun’s invitation still occupied Jongdae’s mind on his way back to his house when he received a video call. It was Yixing. The Chinese producer had just finished one of his projects and was on vacation. Now, he was coming over with Junmyeon to visit. 

“Hey, Xing-ge, how are you?”

“Hey, Jongdae,” Yixing was in the passenger seat of a moving car, and Jongdae guessed that Junmyeon was the one driving. “I’m doing well! It’s been a while since we last talked.”

“Yeah, more than a month! You are so busy that I don’t even know if I should call you or not. Myeonnie-hyung’s driving? You guys on the way here?”

“Yep,” Yixing smiled, his dimples showing; then he turned the camera over to Junmyeon briefly, who had his eyes on the road but waved once. “We’re about one hour away, thought we should call you in advance.”

“Nice. Did you two have lunch? Do I need to prepare any food?”

“Nah, we’re fine. We ate at the service station.” Yixing looked up towards something off-camera. “Oh, we need to pay the toll? Hang on a sec.” He turned back to Jongdae. ''Now I gotta fumble for my wallet, see you soon, Jongdae!”

Jongdae waved goodbye and ended the call, heart a bit lighter at the thought of meeting his college roommate who he hadn’t seen in person in a year.

\---

It was well into the night when they had enough rounds of soju to start reminiscing about their shared college life like old men. Junmyeon and Yixing were one year’s Jongdae’s senior, and the three of them had shared a dorm. It hadn’t taken long for them to realize that they all had a love for music. Jongdae’s stumble was still too fresh back then, but his hyungs were able to persuade him and led him out of his shell. Yet they still only performed once, at a small seniors’ graduation party, and Jongdae never ventured to sing again after Junmyeon and Yixing graduated. 

Thinking back, they smiled with sadness how only one of them, Yixing, ended up pursuing his college hobby and turned it into a successful career as a well-known songwriter and producer in China. Junmyeon, who had always yearned to be a singer and actor since his childhood, eventually succumbed to his parent’s wishes and became a financial consultant. For Jongdae, music wasn’t even a dream in college; it had already been buried. But that one time, he dug it out, enjoyed the happiness of filling his veins with passion once more, and buried it back before any sense of regret crept in. 

Maybe that’s what he can do this time, too. The tiny voice repeating _I want to_ was getting louder, and Jongdae found himself unable to ignore it anymore. 

“Guys...I got an offer to sing at an event. Should I go?” He must have been a bit tipsy because otherwise he would never have let it out of his mouth.

Junmyeon and Yixing both turned to look at him and then at each other. The lights were dim, but Jongdae could still vaguely see the initial surprise and then the light smile spread over their faces. 

“You already know the answer, don’t you?” Yixing’s dimple deepened as he scooted over, one arm encircling Jongdae’s shoulders. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have even told us.”

“Your voice is too beautiful to be hidden away forever,” Yixing said softly and full of sincerity, “You don’t know how sad we were when you told us you wouldn’t perform again after we graduated.”

Junmyeon stood up and walked over as well, extending a hand to ruffle Jongdae’s hair with an indulgent smile. “Our Jongdae, always so skillful, so talented but so rational and cruel with himself. I know you want to, so go do it, make your hyungs proud.” He was obviously a little tipsy as well and he giggled, “Plus your life is so boring, Dae, go pick up your old hobby and get an actual life.”

And just like the last time, Jongdae found himself persuaded in the direction his heart already yearned. 

Throughout the process of executing the project, it became clear that Baekhyun was deeply attached to it. In his words, things like these make his job tolerable. Jongdae often accompanied him, sometimes Minseok, Chanyeol or Kyungsoo would come along too if they had time, as Baekhyun arranged the stage from lighting to special effects. He worked diligently, taking care of every detail and spent every spare minute thinking about what he could do better.

Soon, it came time for the rehearsals. For Jongdae’s and Baekhyun’s performance, the first step was determining the line distributions, and Baekhyun suggested they meet at Universe one afternoon to discuss it. Jongdae, to his own surprise, was nervous, and he almost scoffed at his nerves for being so weak when he used to be so confident. But as soon as the MR track started playing, Jongdae closed his eyes and found himself quickly melting into the narrative. The familiar sense of emotions and power coursed through him once more, and Jongdae felt himself starting to pick up speed in his mind meadow, as if freed from shackles and finally able to stretch his limbs in a long time. 

When the music flowed into silence and Jongdae opened his eyes again, he found two astonished audience members gaping at him. 

“Wow.” Baekhyun’s voice was barely above a whisper and he was still stunned. “Thank you for agreeing to do this. I—that is—” Baekhyun stuttered for a bit, then gave up. “Thank you, so much.”

Minseok’s eyes were slightly watery, clearly affected by the sadness of the song. “That is so beautiful, Dae. Thank you for singing.” 

The simple four words shouldn't have affected Jongdae the way they did, but Jongdae felt his heart pounce at them. The last time he heard them was from Junmyeon and Yixing eight years ago. Now hearing it again, it felt even more profound, and it made Jongdae want to keep his dream out and exposed in the spring air a little longer.

\---

“Two more performances, then it’s us.” Baekhyun was standing beside him in the backstage waiting room, clearly nervous as his eyes darted around. Jongdae couldn’t help but feel agitated too, the fear of repeating his old fate creeping up into his mind. 

His thoughts were interrupted when his phone vibrated and he went over to check. A flood of messages nearly overwhelmed him.

 _Mr. Kim-Jun-Cotton: Jongdae-ah you can do this, your band leader’s rooting for you! 🐰_

Jongdae smiled, Junmyeon nearly never uses that emoji unless on special occasions.

 _LiveForVivi: Hyung I would have killed to see you sing live :( Keep doing it so I get a chance ;)_

Jongdae could almost see Sehun’s smirk and wiggling eyebrows.

_Am_I_A_Bear:_

_HYUNG  
WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE  
HYUNGGGG OMG _

_Jongdae rolled his eyes—this is the exact reason._

YOU CAN DO THIS  
AHHH MY HYUNG IS NOT A BORING OLD HAG WHO DOESN’T HAVE A LIFE   
LOVE YOU HYUNG YOU WILL KILL IT

_Work hard then harder: My golden throat Jongdae! Enjoy your performance because it will be mesmerizing as always!! Jiayou, Gege ai ni!!!_

Jongdae smiled at his Chinese hyung wishing him encouragement and love in his own tongue.

_Loey_61: You and Baekhyun are gonna rock this! This will be lit!! [attached jpg.]_

Did Chanyeol draw the fire picture himself?

_DKS_0112: Jongdae-ah your voice is amazing, I wish I could go to your performance :) Looking forward to the recording <3 _

Jongdae was a bit startled to learn that Kyungsoo could now type hearts.

And finally, Jongdae clicked on the last message, a selfie sent by Minseok. He was holding Tan in his arms, smiling wide while Tan was holding up his paw. He could see Minseok’s family in the background, smiling fondly at the camera as well.

_We’re all rooting for you, Dae. Thank you for agreeing to sing with that beautiful voice ^^_

Jongdae smiled and closed his eyes. He could do this, it’d be different this time.

The performance was a blast, and when Jongdae finally dared to look down into the crowd below at the end of the song, he was met with thunderous applause and faces full of nostalgia. Baekhyun had chosen the right song for the right audience, and Jongdae could say it was delivered at the top of his and Baekhyun’s levels. They linked hands and bowed deeply, faces flushed with joy as the audience applauded on.

\---

It had been a week since the Lunar New Year Performance, and Baekhyun proudly announced yesterday that his boss was so satisfied with his arrangements that a promotion was very likely. Better yet, he was going to treat all of them to a meal at Kyungsoo’s restaurant.

“You need a YouTube Channel,” Baekhyun slammed his hand against the table, causing the other three to jump. Even Kyungsoo, who was working near the counter, raised his head at the sound. Chanyeol held up his bowl of ramen protectively, afraid that another slam by Baekhyun would lay waste to his precious soup.

“What? Why?” Jongdae was quite taken aback.

“To record you singing, of course!” Baekhyun seemed exasperated that no one else was getting it. “You sing too well to let it go to waste!”

“I second that,” Chanyeol said between mouthfuls of noodles, “the world needs to hear it.”

Jongdae found himself more and more unwilling to return singing into the dust-covered chest in his heart. If it had only been half a month earlier, he would have refused without hesitation. But now, Jongdae started to seriously contemplate the possibilities.

“Maybe,” Jongdae chuckled, “I’ll look into it.”

“You better,” Baekhyun waved his chopsticks as a threat.

\---

“I think Baekhyun’s right,” Minseok suddenly said on their walk back from the restaurant. Soon after their New Year's gathering, Jongdae discovered that Minseok lived in the vicinity of his own neighborhood, so they often returned home together.

“You really are one of the best singers that I know, Dae. It would be doing the world a disservice if your voice is only kept with your friends.” Minseok stopped and turned to Jongdae completely, taking his hands.

“I know you love music, so if you want to do it, even if it’s just the slightest sign of desire, then go do it. Hyung will always support you, and I’m sure all of your friends would be elated to do the same.”

Jongdae felt the afternoon sun spreading warmth on his face. The force that held his hands was warm, dry and reassuring. The seedling in his chest had branched out its first few leaves, and Jongdae found himself filled with courage.

His dream was still out there, exposed in the air. And instead of regret, Jongdae felt for the first time that time was on his side, that everything was timed perfectly. It was simply meant to be for the real possibilities of cherishing his passion to be presented to him now when he was ready. 

“Okay, hyung, I will.”


	10. That's Okay

_The loneliness that's stayed hidden inside,_ _  
__Let it linger for a little; just look at it._ _  
__If the soft breeze blows,_ _  
__Open your heart, the day will pass._

 _The memories that fill both hands,_ _  
__Our precious story, a sincere heart._ _  
__If you can still remember them after time passes,_ _  
__Will you be able to say_ _  
__That you were happy too?_

“You walk really fast.” Minseok was clearly unused to the fast pace at which Jongdae walked and was only just mentioning it. Jongdae remembered the time Junmyeon and Yixing complained about something similar in college, saying that it was a pain trying to keep up with Jongdae as they walked to their classes. 

“You don’t have to walk that fast here, you know. There are no crowds after your heels and pushing you forward.”

“Hmm. I think I just like to walk fast.” Jongdae thought hard for a clear reason why he walked so briskly. It had become such an innate habit that it persisted even when he’s not in a hurry.

“Well, that’s okay, then. If you want to slow down, that’s totally okay, too. Sometimes it’s good to do that, stop to look at things, feel your surroundings,” Minseok said as he stopped near the side of the road, at which a clear mountain water spring was trickling along, “listen and look.”

They both crouched down. Upon a much closer look, Jongdae could see each of the individual rocks lined on the bottom of the spring, some amber, some grey, some black, some transparent and some milky white. Tiny clovers sprang out in between the rocks, strikingly beautiful shades of green on a canvas of darker colors. The bank was also lined with tiny green plants that survived in the harsh winter cold. It was as if Jongdae was staring at a mini world with a mini forest, and he thought for a moment what it would be like to live down there.

“I wonder what it would be like if I’m a tiny creature living down here,” Minseok thought out loud, in sync with Jongdae’s own thoughts. 

“Probably really great,” Jongdae answered, extending his hand into the spring water. It was very cold, but Jongdae enjoyed the chilliness that shot through his fingertips, “I’d definitely give it a shot if I get the chance.”

“Me, too. We can build a little cottage together.” Minseok stood and nodded, clearly satisfied with the scenes filling his imagination.

They walked on at a much slower pace. And as if the stop near the spring opened a magic eye for him, Joungdae found himself noticing more and more details: flower buds impatient for spring, tiny handwriting scrawled onto the stone streetlight and tiny rocks that have peculiar shapes. He pointed his findings to Minseok, who pointed his own out to Jongdae, and they compared notes like two excited detectives tracking a case.

“We’re like Sherlock Holmes and John Watson!” Minseok exclaimed.

“I’m claiming Sherlock.”

“No, you’re definitely John. Plus I’m really observant and found way more details than you.”

“Hyung!”

\---

Jongdae looked at the sorry state of his garden and sighed. 

He was never into gardening. Back in Seoul, he didn’t have a garden but used to have a few potted plants scattered around his apartment. He didn’t have the time to tend to them and sometimes he didn’t have the patience for pruning, pulling out stray leaves, shopping for fertilizers or watering. So, when the fifth and last plant withered into a small yellow stump, Jongdae gave up and didn’t allow any natural green to reside in his home.

Winter was okay, because everyone else’s garden looks exactly the same, yellow and lifeless, if not a bit messy. But as the weather warmed and spring winds started to blow, other gardens started to have signs of vitality, and Jongdae’s, of course, didn’t.

In fact, it seemed much worse. Weeds almost monopolized his garden, having grown even taller with the scent of spring. His knees were entirely covered as he waded through bushes of them, and they hurt from the stings and scratches. Suspicious holes sprang up all around, though Jongdae was surprised that there would still be any signs of small wildlife in such a densely populated country. 

He had been well insulated from it for months now, but the familiar sense of panic washed through him again. There was too much to do and nowhere to start. It was threatening to drown him, and Jongdae felt the huge waves in his dreams reappear. For a second, he desperately wanted to go back into the house, slam the door, and forget about the garden entirely. Instead, he sat down on his backdoor steps.

“Jongdae?” Minseok picked up on the third ring, voice still a little groggy from sleep. Jongdae felt a wave of guilt. It was mid-morning, and Minseok was at the pub until late yesterday; he must have disturbed the other’s sleep.

“I’m sorry, hyung, so sorry for waking you up.” Jongdae didn’t know if Minseok could hear the unsteadiness of his voice. “It’s my garden. It’s such a mess. I… don’t know what to do...” Before he could stop himself he started rambling, words poured out from his lips and Minseok listened.

“It’s okay, Dae, take a moment, breathe deeply and feel all of that.” Minseok’s voice was low and soothing with not a hint of annoyance or judgment. “Take your time, as long as you want. Don’t fight it, don’t think about all the things that you need to do, just feel it.”

Minseok was silent after that, but Jongdae could feel the other’s presence as if they were sitting side by side. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could still feel the sense of helplessness, but minute by minute it was slowly ebbing away as the sun now shone onto his face and he felt a light, warm breeze blow over. 

When he felt like he regained a sense of control, he opened his eyes. “I’m feeling better now.”

“That’s great to hear. If we take it step by step, we can do this. You ready?” 

Jongdae couldn’t see Minseok’s face, but he knew that Minseok was smiling. The mental image warmed his heart and made it ache with gratitude as well as something that had been growing continuously, something that Jongdae was increasingly recognizing with clarity.

“Yes, I’m ready, hyung. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Dae, thank yourself. You are the one who won the fight. Now, let’s first divide everything we need to do into big categories…” 

Standing in front of the huge gardening supplies store, Jongdae could see through its glass door into a maze of isles and a dazzling array of different products. He almost felt overwhelmed again, but he held onto the comprehensive list of things he and Minseok made together like a weapon and smiled.

He could do this.

\---

Jongdae couldn’t remember exactly when the change started to occur, maybe it was shortly after that night spent in the lighthouse in January. But his nightmare started coming less and less frequently, and the dream itself started changing. The water, though as humongous as before, became more and more gentle, and instead of feeling like drowning, Jongdae found himself to float higher and higher until eventually he reached the top. His face emerging from the water, he discovered that above the sea was a clear, blue sky with cotton-like clouds. Even more, there would sometimes be a small boat waiting for him, and a figure of a man always sat with his back to him. Jongdae knew the figure too well, and in his heart, he didn’t need to see the face to know who that was. 

Minseok.


	11. Shall We

Jongdae and Minseok were on their way to the lighthouse, walking along the seaside road, when Jongdae looked up.

Having lived here for almost nine months, Jongdae had seen plenty of gorgeous sunsets by now. But it seemed like this one was different, even more breathtaking than any that he had seen before. The sky near the sea and the sun were burning pink, brighter and more vibrant than ever. The soft pastel colors made him slow his steps, eventually coming to a stop.

It had rained the day before, and there was still a waft of moisture and fresh soil lingering in the air. This, combined with the soft June wind made the air pleasant to breathe in, and Jongdae felt like his chest was expanding. An idea emerged in his mind, breaking out of the soil like a seedling and growing until Jongdae’s heart was filled with silent anticipation at it. 

“Hyung, come with me.”

\----

“I feel like I’m too old for this,” Minseok said as he eyed the alley extending down from the hill at which they are now standing. “I’m definitely gonna fall and break my neck somewhere along the way.”

“It’s okay hyung, you’ll be fine,” Jongdae laughed, leaning over to hug his frightened friend tightly, “it’s not that steep!”

Jongdae had to admit that when the idea popped into his mind, he was startled as well. Speeding down an alleyway on a bicycle didn’t seem like something responsible 30-year-olds and soon-to-be-30-year-olds should be doing. 28-year-old computer engineer Kim Jongdae was screaming at him to stop, to disregard it. But as the idea grew, his memories of the summer 16 years ago came flooding back, and Jongdae yearned to feel that sensation again, of the winds rushing against his face, the furious spinning of the bicycle wheels and the mesmerizing sunset before him. 

“Don’t you trust me, hyung? Just follow me.” Jongdae took Minseok’s hands and squeezed them reassuringly.

“Okay, Dae, I’m literally putting my life into your hands.”

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” Jongdae said, voice a bit low and with a layer of emotion that he himself couldn't even place. Jongdae turned and mounted his bike. “Here we go, hyung, it will be okay.”

As he released the bike stand and the wheels started churning, it was there, the feeling that he thought had been long buried was back. He could feel it as the wind rushed at his face and ruffled his hair. The same sense of joy, of being carefree, of simply being in the moment. Behind him, he could hear the sound of Minseok’s bike rushing down the stone pavement as well. There was a small shout of fright, then it became of excitement and laughter, and Jongdae knew Minseok felt it, too. 

They both braked at the end of the slope, breath heavy and face flushed. 

“Wow,” Minseok breathed out. Jongdae turned to look at him, at the rosy cheeks and shining eyes, and he found his heart aching again, not from the exercise, but yearning for something more.

 _It’s sad that tonight is fading; I want to hold on and not let go._ _  
_ _My warm heart is like this teacup; I’m shy and it’s a little tacky._

They then went to get strawberry-flavored soda. Though Jongdae wasn’t sure if the store that Minseok led him to was the exact same as the one he had been to before, the refreshing sweetness of the soft drink seemed no different. Parking their bikes nearby, they sat side-by-side on the store’s steps, sipping the soda and savoring the cream on top. The sun bathed them fully while the store’s air conditioner cooled their backs as they talked and laughed.

Jongdae felt something slowly fill his chest. It had been there all along, the tiny seedling planted the moment he met Minseok. Now, in the warm winds of early summer, it had become a fully grown tree. The hollow that Jongdae had once known so well and bore so long had been unknowingly filled, and the green leaves were threatening to branch out, squeeze his heart and force him to say those words. 

One beat, two beats, then three. Jongdae could feel it pulsing under his skin. Minseok was saying something, then he stood up, extending a hand towards Jongdae, smiling. Once they both stood, Minseok turned and walked towards their bikes.

 _Don’t, don’t hide yourself; it’s sad if I’m in a hurry alone._ _  
_ _My burning heart is like that flame, I want to give it to you, I want to stay._

They rode slowly towards the lighthouse. Minseok extended his arms into the air, shouting and laughing. The bicycle zigzagged beneath him and he hurriedly placed his hands back on the handle, eyes wide like a frightened hamster. Jongdae could hear himself laughing, and the pulsing and beating beneath his skin was getting louder.

He waited until they were on the little balcony encircling the glass dome of the lighthouse before he let the leaves and flowers of his heart flow out of his mouth.

They were standing side by side, arms on the railing and watching the last rays of the early summer sun as it sunk beneath the ocean.

“Hyung,” Jongdae turned. Their faces were close, a few centimeters apart, and Jongdae could almost see his own reflection in the hazelnut colored pupils of his love, “I have something to say to you.”

Minseok looked down for a split second, clearly taken by surprise and quite a bit nervous. But Jongdae felt like he saw the sparks that signaled anticipation and excitement, encouraging him to go on. 

_Come into my arms, I’ll hold you tight._ _  
_ _Please don’t hide it my dear, come to me just the way you are._

“I never told you clearly why I came here. I haven’t been ready, but I think I’m ready now. Sorry it took me nine months.” It was true, Jongdae felt like he could finally let it out now. Let out the hollow that now had no place in his heart, let out the pain and numbness that had been slowly and carefully erased by the most wonderful nine months of his life. 

Minseok took his hands and caressed them gently, silently telling him it was okay and patiently waiting for him to continue.

“I felt like a candle burnt out to its ends back then. I couldn’t distinguish my nights and days; I couldn’t breathe freely, and I couldn’t stop when everything else was forcing me to continue. I wondered for so long when it would finally end, until my friends and family all decided for me. That’s when I came here; that’s when I met you.

“I found myself drowning less and less in my nightmares, looking forward to the nights and days when I get to meet you, walking slower and driving slower because I can, because I want to. For me, hyung is not the light at the end of the tunnel because I know now that the end is not when enjoyment comes. You are there with me in the tunnel every step of the way. I’m not alone anymore, there’s no nights where I have to struggle forward without a light anymore. You are my light, hyung, my light by the ocean.”

Minseok’s hands were still on Jongdae’s, and Jongdae grabbed them, gazing into the frozen pupils before him, willing himself to continue.

“And I’m greedy, I want it to remain that way forever. I want you by my side, not as a friend, but as a lover. I love you, the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way your hands feel on mine. I want you there with me, from now on, every single step of the way.”

He paused, his voice now trembling as his heart beat on thunderously.

“Will you, hyung? Will you love me and continue to be my light?”

Minseok’s lips touched his as the giant light in the lighthouse flared on behind them. The explosion of light blinded them both temporarily; either that or Jongdae closed his eyes and felt the kiss only by touch. Minseok’s lips were soft and sweet, the taste of strawberry and cream still lingering. It was gentle but firm like an answer, an affirmation that bridged the flowers flowing from Jongdae’s mouth into Minseok’s.

And Jongdae found himself crying, holding the love of his life within his arms and kissing him as the last bits of the sun sank down. It was okay if the night came, because he had his light with him.

 _What shall we do about tonight? Shall we cross the sparkling galaxy together?_ _  
_ _In the night where the lazy streetlights are drowsy. In the night, tonight._


	12. You

_Come closer, a little closer to me,_ _  
_ _I want to stay with you like this._ _  
_ _No need to say anything, I can see it in your eyes._ _  
_ _I can feel it._ _  
_ _I want you to look at the shine that’s inside of me,_ _  
_ _You are the reason I keep on walking this road._

 _When someone makes you tired, think of us._ _  
_ _Just like this song, It will hug you warmly._

Summer had passed fast and in bliss.

Jongdae and Minseok announced their relationship to their family and friends, receiving many blessings and happy tears. They spent their summer reading in the library, stealing kisses behind the shelves, riding bicycles down more hills, working in Jongdae’s garden and sharing a soda during breaks, lying under the night sky on the balcony of Minseok’s loft, feeling their heartbeats and breathing unify into one. 

But summer was coming to an end, and the question of the future loomed on the horizon. Jongdae was becoming increasingly agitated, unsure how to handle returning to his career, if at all, and potentially enduring a long-distance relationship with Minseok. 

He turned over on the bed, feeling the August night breeze through the open bedroom window, calming him slightly. Moving closer to Minseok, who was reading a book, Jongdae laid his head on the other’s lap. 

“Hyung.”

“Yes?” Minseok looked down from his book at Jongdae’s face, spare hand combing through Jongdae’s hair. “Are you thinking about what to do when September comes again?”

Jongdae nodded, a slight, unintentional pout evident on his lips. Minseok chuckled at his adorable boyfriend, bookmarking his book and putting it to the side. 

“I told you, whatever you choose to do, I will support you the best I can.” Minseok cupped Jongdae’s cheeks with both hands and caressed them.

“I know, hyung,” Jongdae sighed and took hold of the fingertips now drawing playful circles across his face and held onto them. “But that’s the hardest part; I still can’t decide what I should choose to do.”

Minseok scooted downwards, now at the same level as Jongdae as they laid side-by-side, faces centimeters apart.

“Everything else aside, do you enjoy the tasks of your job?”

Jongdae thought for a moment, “I guess so. It’s one of the few things that I could tolerate other than singing and that’s why I chose to do it. It’s a decent way to support myself.” 

“So is the lifestyle associated with it your only reason for hesitation?”

“For the job, yes. The stress and pressure took almost every bit of enjoyment out of it. But moving back to Seoul? No. I don’t want to leave you, hyung, and I don’t want you to move with me to Seoul, either. You’re so happy here, I would be damned if I force you to give it all up." 

The sincerity in Jongdae's eyes must have been overwhelming, for Minseok closed his eyes with a fond but resigned smile, leaning closer for a peck on Jongdae's lips. "Our Dae, always so caring and considerate. You really are the best, you know?" 

Jongdae felt his cheeks heat up slightly and pouted, "No, hyung is."

"Let's just agree to disagree," Minseok laughed, the vibrations in his chest rippled across the almost non-existent space between them and tugged at Jongdae's heart. 

“I think I should stay here,” Jongdae declared after a beat of silence, “I’ll quit my job and move here permanently. My Youtube channel is doing well, isn’t it? I can earn money with that.”

Minseok reached out to tuck the stray bangs over Jongdae’s eyes behind his ears but took on a more serious tone. “Though I appreciate that you are finally recognizing your talent and I’m so proud of you for having the courage to chase your dream, you’ve only been here for a little less than a year, Dae. That’s too short of a time to decide if you genuinely like it here. It’s a huge change; it’s a change in the trajectory of your life. You don’t want me to move, but the same is with you. Your family, your friends, your connections, your job, you’re saying goodbye to 28 years of your life. As a boyfriend I don’t want you to leave either, but you need more time to think about if that’s genuinely what you want.” 

Jongdae knew Minseok was right. He himself, of all people, knew that life was not just sunshine and fairytales. The real world had always been full of conflicts, choices and compromises, and Jongdae was already lucky enough to have met Minseok, the rest of their friend group, and an opportunity to pursue his dream. 

“You’re right, hyung. Maybe I should go back for a few months to see and try to readjust or find a compromise.”

Minseok smiled and leaned over again to kiss his love softly. “We’ll figure something out together.”

“Yeah, it will be okay.” Jongdae leaned into the kiss and encircled Minseok in a warm embrace.


	13. Beautiful

_You’ve been waiting and I’m on my way to pick you up,_ _  
_ _Everything looks so beautiful because it’s colored by you._

 _I remember you that night,_ _  
_ _When you came to me with shy eyes and kissed me._ _  
_ _My impatient footsteps are burning,_ _  
_ _I like this trembling feeling._

 _Everything looks so beautiful,_ _  
_ _And even more beautiful at the thought of you._

It was the middle of winter when Jongdae returned.

In the end, after much thought and many more phone discussions with Minseok, Jongdae did quit his job in exchange for a lighter one of similar nature that allowed him to work remotely. His pay was almost cut in half, but Jongdae could do with his Youtube to supplement his income. But more importantly, it would allow him to be with Minseok.

It was two minutes to four. 

Jongdae parked at the exact same spot he did a little over a year ago, but this time he had no patience waiting for the pointer on the dashboard to fall to zero or for the chime of the clock striking four. As the car door swung closed, he heard a distant call, and at the other end of the walk was Minseok, hair, scarf and coat flapping in the December wind, the love of his life.

One step, two steps, then three. His suitcases skittered along the gravel as he picked up speed and ran, as they ran. The walk was long, but with every step Jongdae could see Minseok clearer—the shining feline-like eyes, the hearty smile that showed his pearl-like teeth, the cheeks slightly red from the wind—and his heart pounded and ached harder. The waves crashed loudly along the rocky shore by their side, but he couldn’t hear it—Minseok was calling him. The next second, a familiar scent, soft fabric and a warm embrace, two heartbeats merging into one.

As if meeting for the first time, they gazed at each other, noses centimeters apart, drinking in the hazel sparkling deep in each other’s eyes. When their lips met, Jongdae could taste the faint salty breeze of the sea on Minseok’s lips—warm, soft, but material. Jongdae felt his tumultuous heart ease and sink into place as the world exploded in light. He was no longer falling or drowning; a pair of strong, loving arms had caught him, and he was home where he should be.


End file.
